A Glimpse of the Future (or, Erestor Meets an Old Friend)
by NirCele
Summary: Life in the Blessed Lands isn't as one would expect. Erestor lives alone, contact lost with those he would consider friends and family, but then he receives a visitor...someone from his life long ago, and one he thought he would never see again. Posted 1 of 2.


**Take what you will of this story. It is exactly what you think it is.**

Erestor curled his fingers into the soft dirt beneath his palms and sighed. It felt cool against his hands, a relief from the sun's burning rays bearing down on him. He glanced up at the gently rolling clouds ahead, guessing that rain would probably arrive that night, if not early morning tomorrow. It was a good thing he was almost done, then.

Plucking the last weed from beside a thriving marigold plant, he rolled his shoulders and sat up, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He gave the drooping weed in his hand a last look before tossing it to join the pile at the end of the row. It might not have taken him an hour to do this, but he liked the solitude and quiet of the garden, so he hadn't taken up the local blacksmith's offer to make him a hoeing tool.

Checking over the mounds of dirt and swaying plants once more, Erestor nodded to himself and climbed to his feet, brushing the soil from his breeches and hands. He swiped what he thought was an ant from his cheek, unknowingly leaving a streak of powdered dirt decorating his pale skin. He made his way through the garden, toeing through the small leaves of the beans and stepping over the twining melon vines. Just as he shut the gate to the fence surrounding the garden, he heard a pleased crowing from the bushes.

He smiled and lifted his arm sideways, welcoming the fluttering as a large black bird flew out of the branches and landed lightly on his arm. She bobbed her head and folded her wings, nipping at his ear and releasing a soft crow again. He ran the fingers of his other hand down her silky feathers and chuckled quietly.

"Have you been bothering the sparrows again, Fletch?"

The bird ruffled her feathers and tilted her head, regarding him with piercing dark eyes so like his. She nudged at his hand, wanting her daily treat, but Erestor shook his head ruefully.

"Sorry, girl, I left it inside. Wouldn't want it to get mixed up with the seeds, would I?"

She cawed and extended her wings, shaking them out threateningly. Erestor huffed a laugh and extended his arm to let her take off, feeling the wind whisper past his face as she took to the air, flapping around him a few times before flying back into the bushes.

"Come to the window in an hour," he called after her. "The bread ought to be done by then, if you wanted the crumbs."

A keen cry echoed from the leaves, obviously insulted, and he laughed quietly.

"Or...don't."

It was silent after that, so he dipped his head and turned, heading along the path back to his small, lonesome home. He lived alone, barely a league outside the nearest town, though there were quite a few other buildings scattered between him and the busy areas. His house was small, a hut really, but it was his, and it was home. He'd had it for...well. He didn't know how long. Time seemed different here, but if he had to guess, he'd say perhaps a few centuries, maybe more.

He hadn't seen his former Lord and Lady for that entire time, though the twins had visited a decade back. He wasn't sure if they even knew where he was now. And Glorfindel...no. He didn't want to even think about that.

There was a friendly couple just a little ways down the road, though. They had a neat little layout of a house and a small stable in the back, but it was just large enough for him to hire out a stall for his horse. He should probably go visit Bruinen soon, actually...he hadn't seen the massive stallion since the last time he'd gone to town for basic supplies, almost a month ago.

If anyone asked, Erestor would've had to say he'd be considered a recluse. He didn't talk to other people much, preferring the company of the large crow that hung around his place, and the quiet cat, a far descendant of the first, who liked to sit on his book when he read and chewed on his toes whenever he cooked.

Lost in his thoughts, Erestor almost tripped over the single step that led up to his comfortable-sized porch. He grunted and stepped over it onto the porch, noting the slightly leaning railing. He'd have to fix that soon – it wasn't as if he was running low on time. He ducked through the door, leaving the door open in case the cat wanted to go out. It needed to cool down in here anyway, after keeping the oven warmed for the past few hours.

He glanced around his small sitting room with its small couch, the two unused chairs in the corner, a small table in front of the couch, and the desk just out of the way with the large bookshelf tucked up right beside it. Pausing once to straighten a book that had toppled at the end of a row, Erestor headed into the kitchen. He wondered briefly if his bare feet had dirtied the carpet in the sitting room, but no matter. It would clean easily enough.

The cat was lying on the counter, her tail flicking slowly back and forth as she watched him with lazy eyes. Her front paws draped over the front of the sideboard, but she climbed to her feet and leaped from her perch when he headed to the oven.

"Keeping overly warm?" Erestor asked her with an amused smile, bending to scratch her quickly behind the ears before opening the lower door of the oven. A wave of heat assailed him and he coughed, waving it away and reaching for the poker beside the door. He picked it up by the end and stabbed into the coals in the bottom chamber, stirring chunks of blackened wood and causing sparks and small flames to leap forth. Satisfied with the temperature, Erestor closed it again and replaced the poker. He pulled a clay pan of kneaded dough from the cabinet above the washbasin that was out of reach of the cat. It had been sitting there for about an hour now, rising while he did the garden, but it ought to be done by now. He tugged off the cloth that had been covering it from pesky insects, then carefully placed it in the top part of the oven.

Now that it had been completed for now – it should be done in about forty minutes to an hour, Erestor rinsed his hands in the washbasin, dried them with the cloth hanging beside it, and went into the sitting room. Fetching the book he was halfway through, Erestor settled down on the end of the couch and, after brushing his feet off quickly, pulled them up beneath him. Comfortable now, he began to read, occasionally glancing out the window to check the position of the sun so his bread didn't burn.

It was perhaps half an hour later when he heard hoof-beats. Curious, Erestor lay his book aside and listened to the steady drumming upon the ground, growing ever closer. He was a little confused – who would come to his house, and at this hour? It was nearing evening already, just a little while before dinnertime. Not exactly visiting hours...and no one had visited him in a very long while, anyway.

Shaking his head, Erestor climbed to his feet and slid his book back into its proper position on the bookshelf. He nudged aside the cat, who was sitting in his direct way, and she glared imperiously at him for a moment before stalking back into the kitchen. Brushing his hair back out of his face, Erestor realized that it was falling from the braid he had loosely placed it in this morning. He wandered onto the porch as he fixed it, reaching over his shoulders to unwind it and twist it back up again. He stared down the path between the trees as he did so, watching keenly for the horse he was hearing. A moment later it came into view, a dappled grey stallion with stubby legs and an elegant nose trotting easily toward his house.

He was more interested in the rider, however. It was obviously a female, and she rode easily on her mount, but she had a velveteen brown cloak hanging from her shoulders, and its hood shadowed her face. She slowed as she neared the house, pulling gently on the stallion's loose reins, and stopped just in front of the porch.

Erestor just waited and watched as she swung easily from her perch, patted her mount's shoulder once, then turned to face him.

"Lord Erestor?" came a light voice from beneath the hood, and he inclined his head.

"Erestor, if you please. I am not a Lord here."

The hooded head nodded, and then pale hands ventured from the draping folds of her cloak to reach up and push her hood back. Pale silvery hair tumbled over her shoulders, her grey eyes large and expressive as she turned her gaze upon him. Her face was small, cheekbones high and jaw pointed.

Erestor drew his head up and blinked at the familiarity of it, but said nothing. If _she_ was here, she would speak first and state her intentions.

"I..." She started slowly, and it seemed as if she was wringing her hands, but she took in a deep breath and stepped forward. "I'm sure you don't remember me, Erestor, it's...been a very long time. I am Thenniel." She hesitated, but continued on when he didn't say anything. "I have come to – to talk, I suppose. I can't say I'll apologize for what I chose, but I would like to be friends again. If...if you will."

Erestor stared over her head and thought for a long minute. He raised a hand to smooth the wrinkles that had appeared in his forehead and finally inclined his head slowly. "I have never forgotten you, Thenniel, worry not about that. It _has_ been a long time, and I believe I've changed through your absence. I...well. I believe any conversation would be better suited inside. Come in?" He gestured mildly to the door and waited for her to step onto the porch and move inside before going after her. Pausing at the door, he glanced at the stallion she rode. It peered at him through its shaggy mane and snorted quietly, tolerant to stay there.

Erestor drew in a weary breath and made his way inside.


End file.
